


Cute

by Zai42



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Coming In Pants, Frottage, Groping, Humiliation, M/M, Multi, Semi-Public Sex, mild consent play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:47:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29856918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zai42/pseuds/Zai42
Summary: "He's sassy. I like him."
Relationships: Grizzop drik Acht Amsterdam/Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 14
Kudos: 35





	Cute

**Author's Note:**

  * For [areyouokaypanda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyouokaypanda/gifts).



If it were anyone else, Grizzop would have said the brush of fingertips at the curve of his neck was an innocent mistake - but Grizzop had never known Oscar Wilde to be capable of a great deal of innocence. He glanced up at Wilde, brows furrowed; he was gazing out the window of the carriage, looking for all the world totally disinterested in Grizzop beside him. His fingers stroked lightly at Grizzop’s skin. Grizzop rolled his shoulder, and Wilde glanced at him without moving his head, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

“What are you doing, Wilde?” Grizzop asked. He rolled his shoulder again, either to dislodge Wilde’s touch or to make him commit to it. He committed; his palm made contact with Grizzop’s shoulder, his fingers dipping beneath the collar of his shirt, tapping lightly.

“Why?” Wilde asked. His eyes had drifted back towards the window, but the smirk remained. “Would you rather I stopped?” Grizzop opened his mouth to reply; Wilde passed the pad of a finger over one of his nipples, and he exhaled sharply without managing a single word. Wilde’s smirk grew less subtle; he drew slow circles over Grizzop’s nipple. “Something wrong?”

Grizzop grumbled a curse beneath his breath, claws digging into the seat of the carriage beneath him, back arching into Wilde’s touch. “Why are you like this,” he growled; Wilde pinched him, not hard, just a quick squeeze, just enough to draw a gasp from his throat. _“Wilde,”_ Grizzop hissed.

Wilde turned away from the window at last, shifting in his seat without surrendering his hold on Grizzop, his palm big and warm against his stomach. “Grizzop,” he replied. He rolled Grizzop’s nipple between two fingers, and Grizzop bit hard at his lower lip, glancing towards the front of the carriage. Wilde followed his gaze. “Worried about our good driver hearing something untoward?”

He did remove his hand, then, in order to yank Grizzop into his lap; Grizzop gasped and scrambled for purchase, his claws catching in the fabric of Wilde’s jacket as Wilde situated a thigh between Grizzop’s legs, letting gravity press Grizzop hard against him. _“Maybe,”_ Grizzop whispered fiercely, squirming slightly; Wilde shifted his thigh, rubbing relentlessly at Grizzop’s crotch. “These things aren’t exactly soundproof.”

“Imagine the gossip,” Wilde mused. Both hands had slipped back under Grizzop’s shirt now, fingers splayed across his back, thumbs hooked around to rub semicircles over his ribcage. “A paladin of Artemis, debauched in the back of a cab. How very common of you.” One hand had slid back to his front to play with Grizzop’s nipples; plucking first at one, then the other, back and forth, maddening and slow. Grizzop leaned forward, bracing both hands on Wilde’s thigh. “You’ll have to be quiet, won’t you?”

Grizzop felt his lips curl into a snarl, a growl low in his throat, even as he rolled his hips against Wilde’s leg. “You - started it,” he said, as quiet as he could manage.

“How could I resist?” Wilde replied, lips right up against Grizzop’s ear; it flicked madly as he spoke. “Look at you. You’re _adorable.”_

Grizzop let out a noise through his grit teeth, not quite a moan. His hips snapped forward. “Shut up,” he said - Wilde rubbed sweetly at a nipple as he said it, and his voice pitched dangerously upwards. “M’not,” he added, more quietly, casting a glance over his shoulder.

The hand on Grizzop’s back slid down to cup his ass, kneading absently, half urging him on. “Of course you are,” Wilde crooned. “Look at you rutting against my leg. You’re like a puppy.” Grizzop bit at his lip again, grinding hard against Wilde’s thigh, and Wilde laughed, warm and liquid with affection. Grizzop felt himself flush, the tips of his ears growing hot. “So cute when you blush,” Wilde said, nibbling at an ear. He pressed a kiss to Grizzop’s cheek, chaste and lovely, and Grizzop lurched forward, tossing his arms around Wilde’s neck and keening into his shoulder as he came in thick spurts. He bit at Wilde’s jacket to muffle a moan, his hips slowing but not stopping - he felt sticky and hot and uncomfortable, but he couldn’t quite call it unpleasant.

Wilde’s hands smoothed down the back of Grizzop’s skull, pulling at his ears, tipping his face up. “Run along to Zolf,” Wilde said, and Grizzop realized with a jolt that they had stopped. “I have to pay our dear driver.”

And then the door was open and Grizzop found himself stumbling down onto the street, heat flooding his face. He straightened and made a beeline for the front door, where Zolf was watching him with a knowing smirk on his face, leaning up against the frame. “Bumpy ride home?” he asked, and when he put a hand on Grizzop’s shoulder, the tips of his fingers dipped beneath his collar. “You look flushed.”

“Oh fuck off,” Grizzop said weakly, and Zolf spun him up against the wall, one hand against a collarbone, the other dipping between his legs to feel where he was hot and damp and sensitive. The door was still open. Grizzop sucked in a gasp. “Wait,” he said, glancing towards the door. He couldn’t _quite_ see the carriage driver from here, but -

“He’s talking to Wilde,” Zolf said. His fingers moved in a slow circle; the damp fabric clung to Grizzop’s skin, dragged against him, rough-slick, distracting. “Not gonna notice you unless you do something drastic.” Zolf ground his palm forward, and Grizzop brought a wrist up to bite at, eyes blazing, spine arching up off the wall. “Got you all worked up, huh?” Zolf asked, eyes crinkling in amusement or sympathy. “What’d he do?”

“Called him cute,” Wilde said as he appeared in the doorway. He leaned against the wall beside Grizzop, looking down at him with an infuriatingly smug grin on his face. The door, Grizzop noticed, was still wide open. He reached over to toy with the tip of an ear. “You know how he gets about that.”

“Oh, I know,” Zolf said. He eased Grizzop’s wrist out of his mouth to kiss him, his lips soft, his mouth undemanding. Grizzop made a sound that could have been a whine or a growl. “He _is_ very cute, though,” Zolf murmured as he pulled back.

The sound Grizzop made then was more definitely a whine, unless one were being very charitable, which, Grizzop suspected, his awful, evil, terrible lovers were not going to be. “Nooo,” he said, swaying forward to bury his face in Zolf’s chest. “I am not - _ah_ \- not cute.”

Zolf’s laugh rumbled through Grizzop’s entire body; his fingers pinched lightly at Grizzop’s cock through the soaked layers of his clothes. “Precious,” he murmured, and Grizzop spat a string of curses as he came again, his face burning, his claws flexing against Zolf’s shirt. Zolf’s fingers didn’t stop rubbing at him, filthy and slow, making faint wet sounds as he pressed against Grizzop’s prick.

“You’re both just the worst,” Grizzop said weakly.

“Poor sweet darling,” Wilde cooed, finally kicking the door shut. “Aren’t we just, getting you all worked up like this.” He leaned over Zolf’s shoulder, one hand closing over Grizzop’s wrist, pulling him forward to kiss the back of his hand. Zolf scooped him up into his arms, tossing Grizzop’s legs around his waist. “Let’s get you cleaned up, princess.”

Grizzop buried his face in Zolf’s shoulder, clinging tight with arms and legs, hips rocking forward against Zolf’s belly. Heat pulsed in him, in the tips of his ears, the pit of his stomach, the inside of his thighs where he was slick and hot. He peeked at Wilde over Zolf’s shoulder - Wilde who was watching like a hawk for any real struggling - Wilde who had a sense for what other people wanted, needed, who liked to give it to them before they asked for it - Wilde who broke into a lecherous smile when he caught Grizzop’s eye, and winked.

Grizzop hated that he loved this idiot.

He let himself be carried away upstairs to whatever nonsense was waiting for him, and tried not to look too eager.

**Author's Note:**

> Do you ever think about Grizzop and how being treated softly and like something sweet and precious could be completely humiliating for him but also maybe nice under the right circumstances? I think about that a normal amount.


End file.
